


Playing Dirty

by everlovingdeer



Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [122]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blackmail, Competition, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Oblivious, One-Sided Attraction, Quidditch, Sort Of, or so thought
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:13:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21607345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everlovingdeer/pseuds/everlovingdeer
Summary: “She spied on our –”“And you decided tokidnapher instead! Once Weasley finds out about this, we’ll have hell to pay.”
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Scorpius Malfoy/Reader
Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [122]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1461751
Comments: 1
Kudos: 129





	1. Playing Dirty

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted to other sites on 23/06/18 and it's been edited slightly before being posted onto here

Many of the students at Hogwarts liked to believe that the Quidditch teams were made up of the sorts of people that liked competition. But even still, if you asked the actual players on the team they’d reluctantly agree. But only before telling you that there were varying degrees of competitiveness amongst the players. 

There were those, like our _delightful_ captain Rose who dreamt of eviscerating the opposing teams on the pitch and if on the off chance that we failed in that goal, would take out her frustrations on the team during practices. Then there were those on the other side of the scale, like our dear star chaser – the only one remaining from last year’s squad – who simply enjoyed playing the game and didn’t care about the outcome. I liked to think that I was somewhere in the middle – completely neutral. I liked the game, liked to _win_ the game,but I certainly didn’t lose sleep over losing matches. 

But, when the captain was not only your captain but also your longtime best friend, you were often roped into doing things you really didn’t want to. That was why, when Rosie leaned across the breakfast table towards me, I could instantly tell from the way her eyes drifted towards the Slytherin table that something was wrong. 

Setting my fork down on my plate, I narrowed my eyes at her. “Alright, what is it this time Weasley?”

“The Slytherin try-outs are today,” she confessed easily, finally bringing her eyes to mine. 

“How do you even know that?”

“Albus told me,” she said offhandedly, and I straightened up in my seat when her eyes suddenly focused on me with an unnerving declaration of intention. Smiling sweetly – deceptively – she pushed the plate of strawberries towards me, knowing they were my favourite. “Cantrell –”

“No,” I said instantly with a vehement shake of my head. “I don’t care what it is, but I won’t do it.”

“Where’s your loyalty to the team? We _need_ a spy to check out their potential players.” Pressing her hands to the tabletop, she insisted, “Don’t you understand?”

“Where’s _your_ sense of fair play?”

She swatted her hand as if to bat away the question, “That’s for the Hufflepuffs.”

“Godric you really _are_ something else.” When she began to beam at me, I muttered dryly, “That’s really not a compliment.”

“Make sure to report back to me.”

Godric, the number of things I was willing to do for this team. Why I had agreed to spy on the Slytherin try-outs, I didn’t know but still, I found myself sitting amongst the other spectators whilst trying my best to blend in. Merlin, _had_ I even agreed to this? Or was it really just that easy to convince me into doing things for the sake of giving our team the advantage? Perhaps I wasn’t so neutral after all.

“Cantrell!” It was the call of my surname that made me realise that I hadn’t blended in as much as I had wanted to. Hell, I’d even managed to get some of my dormmates to come with me just, so I wouldn’t be the only lion at the bloody pitch. 

Without a word, I lifted my gaze towards the Slytherin flying in front of the stands. Of all the people to notice me, it _had_ to be their captain. Malfoy flew the remaining distance towards the stands and for one second, I thought he was actually going to ram into them. But of course, he wouldn’t. I knew that. My dormmates though, they didn’t, and they scrambled to their feet to duck out of the way until I was the only one left sitting even as they called for me to get out of the way or else I would end up hurt.

Just like I knew he would, Malfoy dismounted from his broom when he reached the stands, so he was standing in front of me. His teammates and the hopefuls wishing to make the team, all looked towards him and I reluctantly found myself staring up at him. Crossing his arms over his chest, he arched a single eyebrow.

“What do you think you’re doing here?”

“Watching the try-outs of course,” I said airily, gesturing around the Quidditch pitch. “Try-outs are open to all spectators. _Regardless_ of the house they’re in.”

“You really expect me to believe that that’s the only reason you’re here?” he scoffed, and I rose to my feet, growing frustrated by just how much he towered over my seated form.

“Maybe it’s not,” I agreed, finally able to meet his eyes without having to tilt my head backwards. “Maybe I’m here like most of the other girls to admire Potter’s arse in those quidditch robes.” The way Malfoy suddenly clenched his jaw in annoyance brought me an endless amount of pleasure and I tried not to smirk in the way he had a tendency of doing. “Or maybe like you’re thinking, maybe I’m here to spy on your team to see just what we might be up against this year. It’s not like you can do anything about it either way; I’m breaking no rules by being here.”

Malfoy held my eyes for a long moment, clearly unable to say anything else. Because really, I wasn’t breaking any rules so there was no way for him to kick me off the pitch. And if I _was_ here to ogle the players, what could he possibly do about that?

“Scorpius,” the sound of Potter’s voice brought an end to our staring match and we both peered towards the seeker who had come flying to the stand. “We need to get the try-outs started or else we won’t be able to get through everyone in time.”

“Fine,” Malfoy grouched suddenly, snagging his broom from where he’d set it aside. Mounting the broom, he shot me another annoyed look before flying off to finally begin the try-outs. 

I watched concentratedly, shuffling as far forward as I could, to see just what type of players could be joining the team. And when practices were over, I’d return to the common room to give our captain all the information I had found out. And as usual, she would claim that _this_ was why I was her star seeker – regardless of the fact that she only had one seeker anyway. But for now, I needed to watch and see what we would eventually have to go up against. 

* * *

Rose insisted that we deserved to celebrate. Of course, we weren’t celebrating winning a game – we’d yet to even hold our tryouts for the year. Instead, we were celebrating the fact that we had managed to correctly guess just which of the Slytherins would be added to the team, and which would be recruited as the substitute players who would remain standby. Our devoted captain had somehow – and I didn’t want to know how – found out the final line up of players for the Slytherin team. I could tell from the way she’d skipped down to breakfast that her predictions had been one hundred per cent correct. 

Her idea of celebrating included stopping by the Three Broomsticks first thing when we got into Hogsmeade. I followed without a single protest when she took my arm to steer me towards the pub. Godric knew that I needed a drink considering just how many times I’d caught Scorpius Malfoy watching me with an unnerving intensity throughout the week. The Slytherin captain was _not_ pleased that I’d been obviously spying on his team, with him unable to do anything about it. It wasn’t my fault that sometimes the rules just weren’t that all-encompassing as we wished them to be. 

Rose, so pleased at being right, offered to buy the drinks and headed towards the bar. I scanned the room, finding our favourite table empty and walked straight towards it. Peering out of the window, I slipped out of my coat and waited for her to return. When she arrived at the table, with a butterbeer in each hand, I took mine with a grateful smile. Sipping at some of the foam from the top, I watched as Rose shrugged out of her own coat before taking a long drink from her own mug.

I couldn’t help but laugh slightly, “Are you _that_ pleased?”

“It gives us a head start,” she explained with a shrug. “From the information, you managed to get about the players, we can begin to plan strategies based on their weaknesses. You did say that Greene’s shoulder was still a little off from last season, right?” At my nod, she smiled like a cat who had finally managed to corner the mouse it had been relentlessly chasing after. “No doubt the accuracy of his hits won’t be as good as they usually are.” 

“Can’t we talk about something else?” I asked instead of humouring her. Merlin, whilst I loved the game probably as much as she did, it was a little unsettling to have to constantly discuss tactics. Especially when I still felt a little guilty about spying on their try-outs. Whilst I hadn’t broken any rules by attending the try-outs, my behaviour hadn’t been very fair, had it?

“Let’s talk about _our_ try-outs,” Rose said instead, shifting slightly on her seat as she drummed her fingers against the tabletop. 

“Your try-outs are this Wednesday, aren’t they?” 

Both Rose and I shared a look, recognising Malfoy’s voice in an instant, before looking to the two Slytherins standing beside our table. Blue eyes – grey really – met my own and I struggled not to narrow mine upon contact. Merlin, I really wasn’t in the mood for this. 

Breaking the contact, I snagged my butterbeer and took a long sip only to scoot to the edge of my seat when Malfoy invited himself to sit beside me. Potter took a seat beside his cousin and I tried not to drop my shoulders into a slump. Just when I thought I’d be able to move this conversation onto something else.

“How do you know about that?” Rose demanded, and I briefly wondered whether she would try to move the try-outs only to realise that she couldn’t. It was too late to change the date. 

Malfoy, without a word, looked towards his best friend who didn’t so much as falter when he found himself receiving a glare from his cousin. “You used me for information too, Rosie.”

And Rose, Rose actually looked surprised at that, like she had never thought that Potter would be able to use her for information, the same way she had used him for details of the Slytherin try-outs. Honestly, they were both unbelievable at times. 

“What time are your try-outs?” Malfoy asked, angling his body towards me as the two cousins began to bicker between themselves. 

“Like I would tell you,” I scoffed. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he said after a moment, “I’ll just find out from Albus anyway.”

Shooting Rose an annoyed glance, I wondered just why she had to tell her cousin everything. How had such a brainy girl managed to make such a stupid error? 

“Then why bother asking me,” I grumbled.

“A test of good faith.” He only smirked wider when I narrowed my eyes at him. “I just thought we’d stop by to tell the pair of you that you’ll need all the luck you can get to try and win against our team.”

“Don’t worry,” I assured him, and even to my ears I sounded too confident; I had no idea how talented the recruits were, but I couldn’t let Malfoy find that out. Instead, I could only hope that we found some standout players to ensure that we won the cup following on from last year’s defeat. “We’ll fly circles around you lot.”

“We’ll see,” he said after a moment’s consideration, looking towards Potter who was preparing to leave, no doubt unwilling to spend his entire trip in his cousin’s company. Malfoy seemed to share the thought and stood to leave, but not before patting my thigh as he went.

I glared at the motion and made sure he saw my reaction to the gesture. He just smiled – an honest to god smile – as he turned to join Potter on their way out of the pub.

“What is it?” Rosie asked as my eyes followed the tall blond through the room.

“Nothing,” I assured her, finally pulling my eyes away from the Slytherin and towards my companion. “What were you saying about the try-outs? Before we were interrupted?”

* * *

It seemed that no one had signed up to try for the role of seeker, leaving my position on the team uncompromised. Whilst that meant I was already confirmed in the line-up, it also meant that I was the only person, apart from Rosie herself, who was definitely on the team this year. As a result, I was supposed to help my captain with picking the new members of the team and running the try-outs. And because I took my position on the team very seriously and understood the responsibilities it included, I’d planned to head down to the pitch early enough to set up. That had been the plan until I found myself quite literally abducted on my way down to the pitch. 

Two pairs of hands appeared from seemingly nowhere, tugging my madly struggling form into an alcove and down a hallway that I had never seen before. The adrenaline pumping through my veins had me kicking out, intending to do some serious harm to the people dragging me away and I cursed them for having the foresight to disarm me before they took me. Only when I was manhandled into a room and forcefully settled onto a chair – and magically restrained there to make sure I wasn’t going anywhere – did I get to see the face of my abductors. 

I stared up at the faces of the Slytherin beaters. My blood pumped so furiously in my ears that I heard my heartbeat; once, twice – 

“When I get out of this chair, I’m going to castrate the pair of you,” I threatened through gritted teeth, struggling against the chains that were holding me hostage.

The beaters, knowing just how likely it was that I would carry out my threat, brought their hands forward to guard their family jewels. Chest heaving madly, I narrowed my eyes at them and took deep breaths to try and calm myself. There was no danger here, just idiotic snakes who – 

“Calm down Cantrell,” a voice piped up soothingly from the edge of the room. 

I turned instantly towards the sound, letting out an incredulous breath to find another member of the team. Craning my head to look across the entire room, I silently counted just how many members of the team were present. Five. Five members of the Slytherin team had decided to apprehend me and what – hold me captive until the try-outs were over? 

But why? My missing the try-outs was unlikely to affect anything. I had my position on the team already, the only difference was that Rosie would have to handle things by herself. Unless – unless they _didn’t_ know that no one else had applied for the position? The thought alone had me scoffing, even if I _did_ feel a little proud that they were so threatened by me playing seeker? 

Then again, from what I’d heard, Potter had managed to injure himself and the Slytherin team found themselves left with their substitute seeker until Potter healed up. And well, their substitute wasn’t exactly as good as the dark-haired Slytherin was. He didn’t have the benefit of experience either According to Rosie, the Slytherin team was banking on Potter making a quick recovery and as a result, he had been restrained in the Hospital Wing. 

After a few moments, the door to the room opened and in walked the Slytherin captain, looking around the room as he spoke, “Why are we having a meeting in here and not – _Cantrell_? What the fuck is going on here?”

I raised an unimpressed eyebrow, holding his eyes as I asked unnecessarily, “I take it that you had no idea about this idiotic plan.”

“Of course I didn’t,” he said quickly, dropping his bag on top of one of the tables. 

Crossing the room with rapid steps, he crouched down before me and reached out as if to tug the chains off. Naturally, they resisted, and Malfoy dropped his head with a sigh. Rising to his feet, Malfoy turned his back to me as he looked to each of his team members and there must have been something about the way he was watching them because they were all suddenly shuffling on their feet, not quite able to meet his gaze.

“Explain,” he said forcefully, hands in his pockets. “ _Now_.”

“You were the one that said we needed to stop her becoming seeker again,” the keeper protested, and I rolled my eyes. Shuffling a little in my seat, I furrowed my eyebrows – the chains felt looser. Was that because Malfoy had tried to pull them off? Or were these going to magically fall off once a certain duration of time had passed?

“I didn’t mean for you to do this!” Malfoy exclaimed, casting a look over his shoulders at me. His eyes made me still, stopping me from trying to wiggle around to make the chains even looser. Averting his eyes, the Slytherin captain demanded, “What made you think that _this_ was the solution?”

“She spied on our –”

“And you decided to _kidnap_ her instead! Once Weasley finds out about this, we’ll have hell to pay.” Malfoy grumbled a profanity under his breath before asking, “How long? How long until the chains wear off?” 

There was a mumble of, “An hour – it’s been 10 minutes.”

“Is that really all it’s been?” I complained loudly, seeming to remind half the team of my presence. “It feels like it’s been _much_ longer.”

Shifting on his feet to turn half towards me, Malfoy thought for a moment before turning to address his team, “Get out of here for now – I’ll stay with her.” His teammates were reluctant to leave but he just shot them a stern glance, “ _Now_!”

I watched, unimpressed, as one by one the Slytherin team left the room. The final member to leave, one of the beaters who had abducted me in the first place, handed Malfoy my wand and I pursed my lips. Godric if I hadn’t had my wand taken away from me then I wouldn’t be in this mess right now. 

When we were finally alone, Malfoy turned to face me and crouched down again. He held my eyes before looking to the wand in his hands. Without a second thought, Malfoy handed my wand back to me and I didn’t attempt to use it to get out; it wouldn’t work. Only passing time would release me from these chains. 

“Salazar, I’m sorry,” Malfoy said quietly, with a shake of his head. “I’d never even thought –”

“ _I_ never thought I’d see the day where you apologised to me,” I cut in, bringing a small smile to Malfoy’s lips. “I hope you know that once I’m out of these chains, I’m going to give you hell for this.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he confessed as he straightened up. 

Malfoy turned on his heels to walk towards the desk at the front of the room. He jumped slightly to perch on the desk, swinging his long legs. Merlin, how much longer?

“You know,” I began quietly, drawing Malfoy’s attention towards me, “it’s a shame that I’m the one tied up here. I happen to think that _you_ would look much better in these chains.”

Malfoy turned _far_ redder than I thought his pale complexion would have allowed and I laughed quietly at the sight. The Slytherin spluttered slightly, struggling to compose himself as he met my eyes. Perhaps the remaining time didn’t have to pass so slowly after all. 

* * *

The first game of the season, Slytherin vs Ravenclaw, drew almost the entire population of the castle outside into the rain to kick off the season to a good start. It seemed like Merlin himself had listened to the prayers of the Slytherin Quidditch team because Potter had made a startlingly rapid recovery and was flying through the air as if he had never been injured in the first place. Maybe Rosie was right and there really was some sort of healing property within Potter blood that had them recovering much faster than many thought possible. 

Of course, Potter’s recovery wasn’t good news for our team. The dark-haired Slytherin was good – extremely good and it looked like he was even playing with the Ravenclaw Seeker. He’d pretend to spy the snitch and dive suddenly and naturally, the Ravenclaw seeker would follow only to realise that Potter had rapidly changed directions and had led them astray.

The chasers – two of which were new additions to the team – had improved drastically in the few short weeks between try-outs and the game. Malfoy, the only chaser that had been on the team last year, used his experience to lead the younger students through elaborate defensive and offensive plays. The three worked well as a team and it only spelt more trouble for us. From the way Rose slumped in her seat with a frown, I knew she’d come to the same realisation. It seemed like we’d be kicking our practices up a notch. 

Overall, the Slytherin team were better at the offensive manoeuvres but their defence it was still lacking. But what else was to be expected when their beaters had both graduated last year and their places were filled with two students who had only been practising with the team for a few weeks? The Ravenclaw team noticing this focused their beaters on attacking the opposing chasers to buy their seeker some time without conceding any more points. 

Shuffling towards the edge of my seat, I perched a little tensely as I watched the three green-clad chasers trying to manoeuvre their way through the bludgers which seemed intent on knocking one of them – or all three of them – off their brooms. Biting my bottom lip, I winced as Yoon managed to avoid getting hit in the head by one of the bludgers. Merlin that was close – 

Malfoy took a bludger to the shoulder, one that had him recoiling back slightly and almost falling off his broom. I gasped, completely ignoring the look Rosie shot my way. Gritting his teeth, Malfoy quickly grabbed hold of his broom with both hands and just rolled his shoulder once as if to make sure that it wasn’t dislocated before continuing to fly towards the Ravenclaw chaser that had the Quaffle tucked against her side. 

It took a few more minutes of dodging bludgers before the Slytherin beaters were able to intercept and switch onto offensive play. And just like that, the flow of the game had been switched once again and Slytherin started to score consecutive goals. The game ended shortly after with Potter managing to outwit his opponent and tricking them into heading to the wrong side of the pitch. By the time Potter had the snitch in his hand, the Ravenclaw seeker had flown in completely the wrong way. 

Slytherin won the game and the team took to the pitch to celebrate with their reserve players who hadn’t so much as mounted their brooms. The rain began to pour even heavier and whilst many of the spectators would have joined the winning team in their celebrations, they instead chose to duck into the castle to escape the rain. Rosie and I did the same, magicking umbrellas to shield us as we rushed towards the school.

Once we were inside and away from the rain, I dried myself off with my wand and stepped out of the way slightly when a group of rambunctious first years almost barrelled straight into me. Walking beside me, Rosie adjusted the scarf around her neck and sniffled slightly with a frown. 

“I’m going to head to the common room,” she said, casting a glance towards me. “I think we managed to underestimate both the Slytherin and Ravenclaw teams. I’m going to have to do some serious thinking about the plans we’ve made.”

“I hope you don’t plan on me helping you,” I told her as I straightened out my coat and watched curiously as Potter walked past us with Malfoy’s arm draped over his shoulder to aid his captain who struggled slightly. The rest of the team trailed after them, worrying about their captain as they escorted him towards the Hospital Wing. “I’ve got something that I need to do – but I’ll be back at the common room soon.”

Before Rose could ask what I was going to do, or when I’d be back, I hurried away from her and walked down the corridor that the Slytherin team had disappeared down just moments ago. Following a short distance behind them, I hesitated when they reached the Hospital Wing doors. The Slytherin team, not noticing my presence, headed straight into the room and I wondered just what I was doing here and why I had trailed after them in the first place. Godric, how could I just go in there when I didn’t even know _why_ I’d followed along? 

By the time I managed to sort my thoughts out, the Slytherin team emerged from the room without their captain and I ducked back slightly to avoid being seen by them. When I was certain that they’d walked away, I hesitated for only a moment longer before walking inside. My eyes scanned the room, settling eventually on Malfoy who was having his shoulder examined by the matron. I waited silently for the older witch to leave his side before taking her place. 

Malfoy, clearly surprised by my presence, stared silently up at me and paused midway through easing his arm back into his Quidditch jumper. I avoided his eyes, not knowing what to say or why I had come in the first place and stepped forward to help him. Once his arm was back in his jumper, I cleared my throat and stepped away from him. It was hardly my fault that I had been curious about just how injured he was; I’d just wanted to know the extent of his injuries and nothing more.

Malfoy growing frustrated by the silence, spoke up, “Cantrell, what –”

I knew what he was going to ask, and because I knew – I also knew that there was no answer that I could give him. Cutting in quickly, I said, “Be careful next time.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise, “You play Quidditch too – you know just how normal it is to get injured.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t be careful,” I grumbled to myself.

He frowned at my words, seeming to think something over for a moment before sighing. “Sounds like you care about me.”

“Don’t get stupid thoughts into your head.”

“I won’t,” he assured me. “So, what are you doing here anyway?”

“I was walking this way,” I lied effortlessly, “and I saw you being brought in. Just thought I’d stop by to check on a classmate on my way to the common room.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“Whether you believe it or not, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s the truth.”

* * *

In the weeks that followed, our team was put through the wringer as we faced off against the Badgers for the first match of the season. Rose had believed that the game would be an easy victory, such an easy victory that she’d eased up on the number of practices we’d needed to hold. She hadn’t listened to our team's concerns about the new additions who were still struggling with the plays. She was _that_ confident which only made her that much more of a nightmare to deal with when we lost. We lost by only 10 points but still, a loss was a loss. 

Our captain, humbled by our defeat, admitted that she had managed to underestimate all 3 opposing teams and had promptly kicked our training up a notch. The new recruits for the team struggled to get through the practices and inevitably spent the following days complaining about aching muscles. But the rigorous training was paying off and we were slowly beginning to find ourselves adjusting and fixing into operating as one single team, rather than as separate players who had to work together.

“Cantrell,” Rose said suddenly, coming to my side as I hovered by the goalposts. The Chasers took advantage of the clear hoops and scored one goal after another. 

“What?” I asked, not looking to her as I looked across the pitch in search of the snitch. 

“You need to do something about Malfoy,” she said abruptly and his surname was enough to have my eyes shifting towards our captain.

“Malfoy?”

At my questioning glance, she gestured towards the stands. I followed her eyes and sure enough, the Slytherin captain was sitting there. Although I shouldn’t have been surprised – he _had_ been attending the majority of our practices since they’d begun.

“What am I supposed to do about him?” I protested, tearing my eyes away from the blond.

“I don’t care what you do – just get rid of him.” She rolled her shoulders. “Or else I’m going to have to be the one to confront him and I can’t make any promises that I won’t do something that’ll get me benched and off the team.”

“Well, we can’t have that.” I steadied a single hand on my broom, preparing to fly towards the seated Slytherin. “The moment that happens, I end up as captain and I am _not_ handling that responsibility. I’ll see what I can do – just keep the practice going.”

Rose, sending me a final grateful smile, flew back over to guard the hoops and managed to catch the quaffle. She cradled the ball to her chest for a few seconds before throwing it back. I watched her for a moment longer before forcing myself to look at the stands. Godric, I didn’t want to talk to Malfoy – not after our awkward encounter in the Hospital Wing. Since that conversation, I’d avoided being left alone with him because really, could I be blamed for that? 

Dismissing the thoughts with a shake of my head, I flew over towards Malfoy. The fair-haired Slytherin rose to his feet as if he knew that I had been coming over to speak to him. Although the number of times Rosie and I had been looking his way, he’d probably managed to make the assumption. 

Coming to a stop in front of him, I hovered effortlessly in the air and crossed my arms over my chest. Malfoy met my eyes without a word, tucking his hands into his trouser pockets as he waited. 

“You really need to stop coming to our practices,” I said looking him over and noting that apart from the slight flush to his cheeks, there was no other outward sign that he was cold. At least he’d had the sense to cast a warming charm over himself. “If you don’t stop it then Rose will end up doing something that’ll have you in the hospital wing and her barred from playing for the rest of the season.”

He said nothing. Instead, he continued to watch me with odd scrutiny, his eyes unwilling to stray from my … waist? I cleared my throat forcefully, gaining his attention and just like that his eyes were back on my own.

“Well? Are you going to say something? Or have you taken one too many bludgers to the head?”

“You’ve been flying weirdly,” he said abruptly, extending a hand towards me as if to touch me. He caught himself halfway through the action, bringing his hand back to his side. My eyebrows rose in surprise as I drew back slightly, my own arms uncrossing and falling uselessly to grip my broom. “During the last match you took a bludger to the side – your injury hasn’t healed fully yet, has it?”

“What are you blabbering on about?” I said and no matter how composed I tried to sound, my voice told him just how much he’d caught me off guard.

“You’re favouring your uninjured side,” he explained and the moment I realised that he was right, I straightened up hurriedly, and forced myself not to wince at the pain the motion caused. 

“Malfoy –”

He shook his head, turning away to gather his bag and the robes he’d discarded upon his arrival. slinging his bag over his shoulder, he looked back at me and advised, “You should go back to the Hospital Wing and tell the matron that you haven’t healed up yet. She might be able to give you something for it.”

My mouth parted slightly, tongue coming out to wet my bottom lip as I watched him up and leave the stand without another glance back at the pitch. If he had been coming to spy on our team – like Rose insisted then there was no reason for him to leave now. Not when the team was continuing to make such improvements. My study of the retreating Slytherin came to an end when Rose appeared at my side.

She reached out to shake my shoulder, bringing me out of my thoughts. “So, you got him to leave then?”

“Yeah I did,” I muttered absentmindedly, sending one last look to where he had been sitting before glancing back to Rose, “I guess we can finally get on with this practice in peace.”

* * *

Of course, Malfoy didn’t stay away from our practices. Despite my having talked to him, Malfoy was back at the following practice session to spy on us as we ran through some of our newer plays. Rose, who was becoming increasingly sensitive with having to balance being both Head Girl and captain, glared daggers at the Slytherin who was sitting in the stands before the practice had even started. In fact, the team had just taken to the pitch to run through our warm-ups when our captain – living up to her hot-tempered Weasley blood – decided to forsake the practise for storming right over to Malfoy. 

The Slytherin, unknowing of just what sort of tirade he was letting himself in for, simply continued to watch her approach. Our team, deciding to minimise the damage, flew straight after our captain who clambered off her broom when she reached the stands. Rapidly covering the space between them, Rose clenched her fist at her side before bringing it up as if to fist Malfoy’s robes in her hands to pull him towards her. 

Our beaters reacted before she could make contact, shooting forward to draw her back with arms around her waist. Rose struggled against the younger students who looked towards me. As the unofficial second in command, they looked to me for guidance and I looked between both captains hesitantly. 

The beaters, not really wanting to hurt Rose, were struggling to push the witch away from the still silent Malfoy and I decided then to intercede. Stepping between the two ‘rivals’ I pressed a hand to Malfoy’s chest, prepared to have to force him away from Rose. But the gentle push I gave him was enough to have him stepping away as I entered Rose’s field of vision. I held Rose’s eyes for a long moment as she silently calmed herself. 

“I’m alright,” Rose insisted after a long moment, letting out a breath. The team – who had all come to restrain Rose – were reluctant to let her go. They looked to me for guidance and I nodded. Hesitantly they released Rose from their hold and the witch straightened out her uniform, letting out a deep breath. 

Turning away from our captain, I looked to the _still_ silent Slytherin and tried not to scowl at him. It was likely he knew that his silence was only going to infuriate Rose more, and regardless of that he hadn’t opened his mouth.

But when I met his eyes, Malfoy raised his hands defensively, “I didn’t do anything.”

“Really?” My incredulous tone was obvious. “Are you _really_ going to play naïve right now?” Turning my back to Rosie, I hurriedly drew my hand away from him when I realised it was still being held against him. “Why in Merlin’s name do you keep coming here to antagonise Rose?”

Eyebrows furrowing at my words, Malfoy’s solemn eyes settled on my own as he murmured, “I _don’t_ keep coming here to antagonise Weasley.”

“Then stop coming!” Rose screeched from over my shoulder and I let myself stare up towards the heavens, silently wondering just where Potter was when you needed him. Whenever Rose and Malfoy ended up clashing, usually because of Quidditch – and occasionally test scores – Potter was always there to ease the relationship between his very best friend and his cousin. But the Slytherin was nowhere to be found. 

“Practices are open to _everyone_ , Weasley,” Malfoy drawled, peering around me to shoot Rose a pointed look. “I’m not breaking any rules.”

His words, a shadow of ones I had previously said to him, had me narrowing my eyes. Of course, his words only served to further antagonise Rose who had been doing a good job of actually calming down. She tensed as if preparing to leap for Malfoy and I sighed, restraining the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose. Clearing my throat pointedly, I decided to play the middle man and waited for both captains to look towards me. 

“We need to begin our practice,” I started diplomatically, looking to the Slytherin who was once again silent. “We didn’t manage to book the pitch for long enough this week so we really can’t have you distracting the entire team like this. What is it going to take for you to stop this madness? Surely you’re sick of coming out here?”

“I’ll leave,” he agreed so easily that I almost wanted to call him out for his bullshit. But I held my tongue, not willing to tempt fate by having him make some sort of outrageous demand. “I’ll stop coming to the practices if you’ll go on a date with me.”

My eyes widened and I risked a glance over my shoulder towards my captain. Rose’s face was a picture of disgust and I wondered just how to soften the blow of Rose’s imminent rejection. Although, deep down inside of me there was a slight pang in the centre of my chest at the realisation that Malfoy wanted to date Rose. But I couldn’t focus on that now. No, right now I needed to handle this situation and _then_ , when I was alone I could ponder over what it meant.

“Not her, Cantrell,” Malfoy piped up, clearly unamused. “ _You_.”

“Me?” I repeated incredulously, meeting his grey eyes with my disbelieving ones. He nodded once and I actually scoffed. “Piss off.”

“Fine then.” He shrugged, preparing to sit down again.

“She’ll think about,” Rose promised in my stead, halting Malfoy. Mouth dropping open, I let out a sharp cry of her name but she ignored me, eyes focused on her fellow captain. “She promises to think about it, is that enough?”

“It could be,” Malfoy agreed slowly, watching me with assessing eyes. “But that’s not your decision to make. Well, Cantrell?”

Looking back to my captain with narrowed eyes, I reluctantly grumbled, “I’ll think about it. Promise.”

The reassurance was enough to have Malfoy preparing to leave the stands. As he packed his things, Rose dismissed the team who had begun to gossip and just before she could leave, I caught her arm to hold her back. Only when I was certain that Malfoy was out of earshot, did I glare at my captain.

“What the hell were you thinking, Rose?”

“I got him to leave, didn’t I?” she shot back, crossing her arms defensively. “Besides, I said you’d think about it. There was no guarantee about you actually accepting it.”

* * *

Malfoy hadn’t visited our practices for a grand total of _one_ practice session. It was as if he knew absolutely nothing about being patient. Although considering that he was an only child, I doubted that he’d ever had to wait for something that he’d wanted. Merlin, just what was I supposed to do now? If I asked Rosie, then I was supposed to accept the date with Malfoy and then throw it completely by doing everything to make him like me less. Just why did he like me anyway?

Although Malfoy’s presence alone was a reminder of the deal we had struck, he hadn’t actually made any attempts to speak to me about it. He instead watched silently from the sidelines and did no form of pressuring at all. But how was I supposed to explain that his presence alone was pressuring enough? He didn’t need to say or do anything for me to remember. Godric I just wanted to avoid him – even if only for a little longer. It was so bad that when the snitch flew towards the part of the pitch where he was he sat, I simply waited for it to fly to the other side instead of racing towards it like I was supposed to. 

Rose’s voice drew me out of my thoughts as she called for a short break. The majority of the team descended to the floor to dismount from their brooms and I would have followed to do the same had I not spied our captain flying determinedly towards me. So, I waited patiently for Rose to get to my side and join me in my subtle watching of the only Slytherin in the stands. 

“You know,” she started cautiously as if worried about setting me off and I forced myself not to assure her that I didn’t have her temper. 

“Just spit it out Rosie,” I said with a sigh, pulling my eyes away from Malfoy and looking towards her. “There’s no point beating around the bush.”

“It’s just that you know how stubborn Malfoy is – he’s so _bull-headed_.”

“Pot calling the kettle black, there.” 

She dismissed my words with a wave of her hands and carried on, “You know that he’s not going to leave the pitch until you agree to go on a date with him. I mean, is that really such a bad thing anyway?”

“You _cannot_ be serious, Rosie.”

“Do you honestly think that I haven’t noticed the sneaking glances you throw towards him when we’re in lessons?” she asked pointedly and I forced myself not to avoid her eyes.

“I have no idea what you mean,” I denied with a forceful shake of my head. 

“Oh really?” she raised an eyebrow imperiously. “What about the fact that your eyes don’t leave him during matches. That’s going to be problematic when we eventually have to play against them, Cantrell.”

“Stop it,” I grumbled, flushing as I realised just how obvious I had been in my not so secret admiration of the Slytherin captain. 

“I’m just trying to give you the push you need,” she insisted as she prepared to fly away from me. “The break will only last another five minutes.”

“Why are you telling me that?” I watched as she began to fly slowly away from me. 

Glancing over her shoulder towards me, Rose gestured at Malfoy with her head. “Use the time wisely.”

Having shared all her _wisdom,_ Rose turned away to join the rest of the team as they joked around on the ground. My eyes trailed after her for a moment and I was tempted to follow along shortly behind her. But, as it always did, my gaze shifted to settle on the lone Slytherin who I _knew_ was watching me. I could tell, even from this distance. 

I felt my ears grow hot, just thinking about what I was going to do and let out a breath. Adjusting my grip on my broom, I tightened and relaxed both hands around it as I struggled to gather my nerve. It wasn’t like he was going to reject me anyway! Hell, he had practically asked me out already. What did I possibly stand to lose?

This was simple; I was just taking one for the team. Nothing more.

Gathering my ever-fleeting Gryffindor courage, I flew smoothly towards the stands where Scorpius was sat. Spying my approaching figure, he rose to his feet to greet me. I spoke before he could, needing to get the words out as quickly as possible. 

“Hogsmeade this weekend,” I said firmly, trying not to wince at how much it sounded like an order. 

“I – _wait_ ,” his defensive posture went completely slack as if that hadn’t been what he had expected to hear from me. Had he really been expecting a rejection? Pulling himself together, he straightened to his full height and met my eyes. “You’re being serious?”

“Would I joke about something like this?”

“I’d certainly hope not,” he said, letting out an incredulous breath that did nothing to hide the smile playing around his lips.

Almost without meaning to, I found myself mirroring that glorious smile. 

* * *

The first date well – it went as well as any first date could. It was awkward and stifled as neither of us knew how to interact with each other in this new type of situation. We were used to interacting on the pitch, sometimes in class and maybe even in the hallways as we passed each other by, but never when on a _date_. A part of me knew that there was next to no chance of the date being repeated and when Rose asked me I told her that I was a little relieved about that. Even if I really felt the very opposite.

Of course, Malfoy maintained his ability of doing the very opposite of what I expected. But I was glad that he did approach me for another date. Our second was better than the first, and the third was even better than that. The only downside to it was the way Malfoy was behaving on our way back to my common room. 

He walked by my side, his arm swinging slightly as he walked and brushing against my own in a way that told me that it was deliberate. It was so obvious that he wanted to hold my hand but apparently wasn’t sure how to go about doing that. At first, I’d watched him with amusement but as we continued on our way, I was growing more and more exasperated with the boy. Was it really so hard to reach out to grab someone’s hand?

Just when it seemed like he was finally going to do it, I turned quickly towards him. He reacted in a hurry, pulling his hand away from my own and coughing to hide his surprise. Forcing down my amused smile, I raised my eyes to his.

“This means that you’re not coming to watch any of our practices anymore, doesn’t it?” I asked as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You got three dates instead of one?”

He peered down at me, nodding his head once before shooting back, “But it hasn’t been as bad as you’d thought it would be, has it?”

I wanted to ask him just how badly _he_ thought I was anticipating the date to be, but I didn’t. Instead, I shrugged and murmured, “Maybe.”

“Oh, don’t play coy now Cantrell,” he insisted, leaning in for just a second to brush his arm against my own. “At least now you don’t need to search out excuses for why you keep sneaking glances at me.”

My mouth wanted to drop open in sheer shock, my eyes almost widened and more than anything I wanted to demand to know who told him. Managing to catch myself, I turned towards him with obvious incredulity. 

“You’ve finally snapped.”

This time he shrugged and parroted, “Maybe.” I rolled my eyes, tutting quietly as I faced forward once again. “I’d have to have snapped to want to do this again.”

“Is that supposed to be sweet?” I questioned dubiously as we came to a stop in front of the Fat Lady who with each passing day was growing more and more nosy about my relationship with the Slytherin captain. 

“You tell me,” he said ambiguously before gesturing for me to head into the common room.

But I hesitated for a moment, reluctant to head inside. Malfoy furrowed his brows slightly and looked as if he was going to ask if something was wrong, if I needed anything – 

I stepped towards him before he could ask and almost lost my courage at the excited titters coming from the portrait who was watching us with eager eyes. No doubt the moment curfew arrived, she’d disappear to share her gossip. Scorpius, for his part, paid no attention to the Fat Lady and instead stared down at me with intense eyes which were just demanding that I raised my own to meet them. But I couldn’t. Not yet.

Reaching out to grasp one of his hands in mine, I asked quietly, “I know you’re a Slytherin, but surely you’ve got _some_ courage hidden beneath all that green and silver?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked quietly, trailing off as I moved even closer to him until the front of my shoes brushed against his.

When I did meet his gaze, I felt my lips curve upwards as he swallowed quite obviously. Searching his eyes for a moment, I asked quietly, “Well?” 

Yet again, he made no move and I restrained a sigh. I just had to do everything myself. 

Bringing up my free hand to fist his jumper, I made him lower his head slightly to kiss him. It was nothing more than a press of his lips against mine but that didn’t stop a startled breath from leaving his mouth which quickly slanted over my own. Scorpius’ hands finally abandoned his side, one reaching into my hair to hold me close to him and the other settling over the hand I had pressed against his chest. 

There was no way of knowing quite how long we spent entwined in front of the entrance to the common room. However, from the way the Fat Lady’s wistful sighs had soon shifted into uncomfortable coughs, I could hazard a guess. 


	2. Epilogue: 3 Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courage, it was a fickle thing.

_3 YEARS LATER_

Courage, it was a fickle thing. I’d always assumed that since I _had_ been placed in the lion’s den, I must have possessed a great deal of courage. I mean, it _was_ one of the defining traits of my house. And yet, for the first time in my life, I found myself doubting that I was courageous. I felt anything but. 

Godric, the thing that took courage was getting down onto one knee in front of a woman who was _very_ vocal about not seeing the point of marriage. I couldn’t imagine just how nervous Scorpius must have been, how utterly terrified he must have been as he faced my lengthening silence but for the life of me, I couldn’t bring myself to speak the reasons I had for wanting to decline. We were too young; I really didn’t see what would change when we married; I was certain that he hadn’t thought things through – 

Honestly, the list was endless. And yet, I couldn’t say it. I knew _exactly_ why I couldn’t say it – because declining, saying no might just bring about the end of the relationship which had held me stable as I struggled to find my place in the wizarding world. It was that fear, that deep gut-wrenching fear, that had me scrambling to my feet without another word. Grabbing my bag, I’d hurried out of the room and couldn’t bring myself to look back at him. 

That had been a week ago and I hadn’t spoken to him since. 

Not for his lack of trying. Scorpius had immediately followed me to my flat and would have easily gotten inside had I not had the foresight to use the wards to bar him from entering. That didn’t stop him either. He remained resolutely standing outside my front door, knocking and pleading for me to let him in – to talk to him. But Merlin, how could I do that when I knew that talking would lead to us breaking up? Because Scorpius would never choose to break up with me via owl, no he had the honour to do it to my face. 

Eventually, after receiving multiple threats from my neighbours to have him reported for harassing me, Scorpius left. The respite lasted but a few minutes as he began to send letter after letter to my window. His poor owl had to make the multiple trips between my flat and Malfoy Manor – a great distance. At first, I had declined from accepting but eventually, as the owl grew visibly fatigued, I relented and allowed it into the flat for a quick respite. Not that I ever sent a letter back to Scorpius. 

Merlin, I had to be the most cowardly Gryffindor to have ever existed. 

“Cantrell!” The call of my surname had me rising from the seat I had crashed in to take a short break. The hospital, as usual, was packed and so there was rarely a moment for me rest my feet. But that was the life of a trainee healer – constantly rushing around to deal with the next emergency.

“Coming!” I called out hurriedly, as I scrambled towards Healer Higgs – the senior healer who oversaw the training of all new healers. He was one man that I did _not_ want to disappoint. When I reached his side, I paid no heed to the people around him and instead focused solely on him, “Yes, sir?”

“You’ve got a visitor,” he said slowly, easing the tension that had filled my shoulders. Usually, when a senior healer called for a trainee it was because someone was injured or dying or needed tending to. Not for such a blasé reason.

“A visitor?” I repeated in confusion, “Isn’t there some sort of emergency?”

The greying man shook his head, a small smirk playing at the corner of the former Slytherin’s mouth. “Nothing at the moment. I should have known that you’d assume the worst.”

“But –”

He went to leave, clapping his companion on the back as he turned, “She’s all yours, Draco.”

And just like that, I was frozen once again. My eyes remained on the retreating back of my supervisor because I couldn’t bring myself to meet those eyes that were clearly going to be so disappointed in me. Especially not when Scorpius had inherited those very same eyes. 

There was a gentle call of my first name and I let out a deep breath before forcing myself to face Mr Malfoy. I met his waiting stare and did my best not to frown when he sent me nothing but a gentle smile.

“Is there somewhere we can talk in private?” the older man asked and I nodded instantly. 

“There’s –” I coughed to clear my throat which seemed intent on stopping me from speaking, “I think there’s an empty examination room? Is that alright?”

“Perfect,” he assured me before raising an expectant eyebrow. “Lead the way.”

“Yes of course, sorry,” I mumbled before leading him down the crowded corridor and into the examination room that was rarely used unless the hospital was running at code red – above full capacity. Mr Malfoy made himself comfortable in one of the chairs available in the room, even as I hesitated by the door. “Would you like some tea or-or something?”

“I’m fine,” he assured me before gesturing for me to close the door.

I _very_ reluctantly obliged. He continued to watch me and I took the silent hint; crossing the room to also settle into one of the chairs. The silence between us lengthened and I wondered whether he was giving me the chance to speak first, because even if he _was_ – I was not planning on doing that. No, instead I’d grown fascinated with the way the bright lights overhead made the veins at my wrist suddenly more visible – which made running blood tests much easier but also – 

“My son never was much of a drinker,” Mr Malfoy started after a deep sigh.

Raising my head slowly, I agreed quietly, “He doesn’t seem to like drinking much either.”

“He doesn’t – he got that from his mother.” A brief, fond smile appeared on his lips but it was gone in a flash. “But he’s taken to drinking more lately.”

The _because you_ might have been unsaid, but I heard it all the same. 

“But he had a trial,” I murmured hesitantly, “one he said he couldn’t afford to mess up – ”

“He had enough sense to wait until _after_ the trial,” the older wizard confessed before adding as a flyaway comment, “He won the trial, by the way.”

“Of course, he did,” I said quickly, never having doubted his ability to win the trial, even if he _had_ gone head to head with a lawyer that was far more experienced than he was. The smile that played around my mouth was instinctive and when I realised that I had done it, I hurried to smother it. 

“I don’t know what happened between the pair of you, but it seems to be making the pair of you miserable.” He leaned forward to pat my hand, “Would you take some advice from an old man? Talk to him about it – if you never talk then how will –”

The door was thrown open suddenly, shattering the quiet of the room as a panicked voice asked hurriedly, “ _Dad_ are you … okay?”

Mr Malfoy straightened out at the sound of his son’s voice and looked to the doorway. But my eyes were already there – taking in the obvious signs of strain that the last week had done to him. The deep-set bags beneath his eyes, the fact that his hair was tumbling in a mess around his head, and the way his spine stiffened just at the sight of me. Mother always said not to let a man love you too much because it would either ruin you, or it would ruin him. And there was all the evidence I needed before my eyes; I was ruining him. 

“I’m fine,” his father said pointedly, making me look towards him for the first time since Scorpius had entered the room. Mr Malfoy rose to his feet and walked slowly towards the door, “I just came to have a chat with your lovely girlfriend – she _is_ your girlfriend, right?”

“Of course, she is,” Scorpius said instantly, eyes remaining on me. He clenched his jaw for a moment. “Why wouldn’t she be?”

Mr Malfoy looked towards me for a moment. “I don’t know. Why don’t the two of you talk? I need to go and find Terence anyway.”

“Mr Malfoy,” I protested quietly, watching as the older man batted away my words and ducked out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

With Scorpius and I now left alone in the room for the first time in over a week, I struggled to think of what to say. Wringing my hands together, I lowered my eyes to them as I fidgeted. Silence. Complete and utter silence. And then – 

One step at a time, he crossed the room slowly towards me and I counted silently the number of times I heard his shoes against the flooring. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven – 

A hand reached out to settle atop of my fidgeting ones, stilling them instantly and drawing a sharp breath from me. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Not when I found myself lacking the courage again. He embraced me suddenly, arms coming around me to pull me into his chest. Before I could ask what, he was doing, before I could even _try_ to protest, his arms tightened as if to squash any rebellious urge I might have had to push away from him.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” he warned in a voice like steel.

“Scorpius,” I objected, not quite understanding.

“ _Please,”_ his voice lost the edge, softening to nothing more than a plea. “Please don’t ever do that again. Don’t ignore my owls or stop me from coming to find you. Just – just don’t disappear from my life like its easy for you to do, like I mean nothing to you.”

His words clogged my throat, blocking me from spewing out the apologies and the assurances that he did mean something to me. Merlin, he meant _everything_ to me and yet I couldn’t – 

Unable to bring myself to say the words, I lifted my hands to press between his shoulder blades in a silent assurance. He breathed in sharply at the gesture, drawing back to look down at me. I cautiously raised my eyes to his.

“Promise me,” he tried to order but really it came off as more of a beseeching request. 

“I promise,” I murmured eventually and he let a deep breath leave his mouth before hugging me towards him again. I didn’t quite let myself relax as I asked hesitantly, “Does this mean you’re not mad at me?”

“No,” he said resolutely even as he tightened his arms around me. “I’m still mad that you just ran and made me go through hell this past week. We still need to talk about that – and we will. But for now, let me just hold you.”


End file.
